It was towards the close of the day when the old dame told her story, for there had been a large attendance of petitioners to see the King; moreover all the knights had left the court on some quest or other in keeping with their oaths as members of the Round Table. But when the King heard of the cruelty of Sir Terrible, he rose at once, the gentle look passed from his face, and in its place gleamed the determined light of battle. He donned his war-gear, and buckled the great sword “Excalibur” to his side. Then, accompanied only by a young squire, and dressed only as a simple knight, he rode away towards Longdendale.
The King rested for the night at the hut of a poor peasant, from whom he gleaned tidings of many fresh cruelties of Sir Terrible. Early in the morning he set out and soon came in sight of the Castle.
Now, as they rode, the young squire had been silent. But when the Castle towers hove in sight he spoke to the King.
“My liege,” said he, “My father was a knight at the court of Uthyr Pendragon, and was esteemed meet company for brave men. I, his son, have not yet done a deed worthy of mine ancestry. Grant, I pray, that this quest be mine to follow. ’Tis true I am untried, and the foe is strong, yet the cause is just, and, mayhap, God will nerve my arm.”
So he pleaded, for he desired above all else the chance to do some Christian deed that might win for him the fellowship of the Round Table.
After much persuasion the king at last granted him his prayer, and the Squire rode with a glad heart to the castle gate, while Arthur hid himself among the trees.
Reaching the gate, the squire thundered at it with his lance, and then drew back to wait. In answer to his knocking, the knight Sir Terrible appeared, ready mounted, armed with lance and sword.
“Villain and treacherous knight,” cried the squire. “How darest thou abduct innocent and defenceless maidens, whom all thy Order are bound to protect, keeping them as slaves within thy castle? I am come to make thee rue this foul insult to the order of our good King Arthur; for thy cruelties are a stain upon the honour of his knighthood, and a blotch upon the fair fame of his kingdom.”
“Thou discourteous churl,” answered Sir Terrible. “Do but lead on to yon level piece of green, and I will first meet thee in fair fight, and then send thy carcase to thy base born king.”
Now the squire, used to the honour of noble knights, turned to ride to the greensward indicated, but no sooner was his back turned than the treacherous Sir Terrible, couching his lance, drove at him between the shoulders, striking him so fierce a blow that the squire fell senseless to the ground.